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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666397">Fake Tales of San Francisco</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/fieryphrazes/pseuds/fieryphrazes'>fieryphrazes</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MASH (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BJ Goes To Maine, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Love Confessions, M/M, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, lying as a love language, tagging that just to be on the safe side but it is not an immersive experience or anything</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 23:20:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,751</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29666397</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/fieryphrazes/pseuds/fieryphrazes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>ZING! </p>
<p>When BJ shows up unexpectedly in Maine, he has all kinds of explanations -- too bad Hawkeye doesn't believe any of them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>B. J. Hunnicutt/Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>79</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Fake Tales of San Francisco</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Come on, Beej, what’s going on?” Hawkeye coaxed, and BJ grinned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You remember that cookie from the airport bar? Well, I decided to run away with her after all.” Hawkeye groaned.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not this again! Can’t you say something real, for once?” BJ just laughed and changed the subject.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d shown up in Crabapple Cove out of the blue that morning. Hawkeye hadn’t known what to say – he just hugged BJ as fiercely as he could, and then tried to remember how he’d kept any of it inside for so long. How he’d stopped himself from throwing himself at BJ’s feet every day in Korea. How he’d been so close to him for so long without burning up or blowing away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It got easier after a couple hours, once BJ started making him mad again.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the afternoon, Hawkeye herded BJ to the car, and they headed for the docks. Hawkeye carefully considered the lobsters, plucked fresh out of the sea, before settling on two. On the drive back, Hawkeye broached the subject again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess I’m just confused.” He tried to keep the cattiness out of his voice, but it sneaked in anyway. He couldn’t help it, not when BJ got going like this. “All you talked about for two years was wanting to go home. Now you could be home, but instead you’re here in little old Crabapple Cove? What gives?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay Hawk, I’ll be honest with you.” There was mischief in BJ’s voice. Hawkeye braced himself, hoping for the truth, but skeptical he’d get it. “You remember Carl?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure, with the arms and the tight t-shirts,” Hawkeye said, nodding and glancing over at BJ, not sure what expression he’d find.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, when he came to clean out the gutters, he fell off the ladder – you know, because of the broken rung – and Peg tenderly nursed him back to health. Now he refuses to leave. He’s been living in the living room for over a year, and Peg just doesn’t have the heart to kick him out, so there’s no room for me anymore.” BJ said it all in a matter-of-fact voice that drove Hawkeye crazy – the one that seemed so sincere at first, you almost didn’t notice he was saying something absolutely ridiculous.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beej,” Hawkeye groaned, one hand leaving the wheel to rub at the lines forming in his forehead.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay. No Carl. No squatter in the living room.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hawkeye glared at BJ. He had the nerve to laugh about this – to lie and then laugh about it!</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Somehow I’m going to get the truth out of you,” Hawkeye warned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hawkeye pulled the bright red lobsters out of the pot. He hummed as he carefully separated the drawn butter. Once they were sitting at the table, BJ looked nervously at the lobster, then at Hawkeye. Hawkeye laughed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t worry, I’ll shell it,” he said. “Hand it over.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>BJ leaned back in his chair, watching as Hawkeye went to work. It was only a lifetime of muscle memory that kept him from messing up the tail – Hawkeye could feel BJ’s eyes on him, something appraising in his look that made Hawkeye uneasy.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, when are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” Hawkeye deflected. BJ relaxed even further, hands behind his head, leaning into his interlocked fingers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing’s wrong,” he said with a shrug. “It’s just that Peg developed this allergy while we were gone.” BJ leaned forward and tossed a piece of lobster in his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Allergy?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mhm,” BJ hummed, licking butter off his fingers one by one. Hawkeye felt feverish all of a sudden, his face burning and limbs twitching.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well what kind of allergy?” he demanded when BJ didn’t elaborate immediately.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, nothing too serious, she just has to avoid tall, handsome surgeons.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hawkeye threw up his hands, letting them fall heavily on the table, which sent his fork flying with a clang.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re incorrigible!” he scolded, and BJ just grinned.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Helping clean up later, BJ got that mischievous look in his eyes again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, fine. Since you want to know so bad,” he said casually, and Hawkeye perked up. “Peg took one look at me and said, either the mustache goes or I do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And here you are, mustache and all.” Hawkeye gestured at BJ, leaning against the kitchen counter like Hawkeye’s domestic fantasy come to life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I shave for no one,” BJ intoned solemnly. Hawkeye shook his head. He was feeling all mixed up with so many outrageous stories floating around in his head, trying to decipher whether there was any meaning at all behind them. If BJ was saying anything real.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They’d been nursing drinks on the porch swing for an hour or so when BJ broke the silence.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey Hawk?” Hawkeye hummed an acknowledgement as he looked at BJ. “I missed you. You know that, right?” BJ was staring out into the night, not facing Hawkeye. There was something naked in his voice, like this was the first honest thing he’d said since he got to Maine. Hawkeye didn’t know what that meant.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I missed you too,” he said truthfully. What else could he do?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d been sitting side by side all night, casually bumping into each other, but now BJ leaned into him, deliberately making contact. Hawkeye held his breath as BJ’s arm pressed into his own, and their knees knocked together. Beside him, BJ seemed to slowly release a tension that Hawkeye hadn’t even noticed, until it was gone. Until he was finally at ease.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If Hawkeye thought that peace would last, he was wrong. Almost as soon as he stood up from the swing, he could sense a change in BJ – he was back on guard somehow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should get the guest room ready for you,” he said, lingering by the door, reluctant to leave BJ out in the night alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” BJ acknowledged, and Hawkeye turned to go inside. He’d only stepped one foot through the door when BJ called to him. “Wait –” Hawkeye turned, surprised to hear something rough in BJ’s voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” he asked. BJ was tense, tenser than he’d been before, with one hand clenched in a fist, braced against the wooden slats of the swing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes. No – maybe.” BJ looked at him helplessly. “I promised myself I’d say it tonight.” Hawkeye was confused, and he didn’t bother to hide it. He gestured around them, wordlessly inviting BJ to say something, to fill the open air. BJ stood up restlessly, pacing the porch, avoiding Hawkeye’s eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> a cookie in an airport bar, you know,” he said. Hawkeye narrowed his eyes, suspicious of the words and BJ’s strangled tone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Stop it.” Hawkeye was sick of it – he didn’t want to hear any more wild stories. “Just stop. Tell me what’s really going on, why you’re here. I mean, Beej, of course it’s good to see you. Of course I missed you. But tell me what’s going on!” BJ stopped pacing and looked at Hawkeye. All his usual bravado was gone, evaporated somewhere between the swing and the porch railing. It made Hawkeye nervous to see BJ unmoored like this, looking lost and confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was someone. In an airport bar,” BJ repeated. “But it wasn’t in Guam, and it wasn’t at the end.” He looked hard at Hawkeye, asking him some wordless question that went completely over Hawkeye’s head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beej, how could – how could you have kept this from me? When did you have the time to sneak away, and why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped you, talked you through it – does Peg know?” The words came out in a jumble as Hawkeye tried to process it – that there had been someone else, besides Carrie, besides Aggie. Besides him. Hawkeye had always wanted it to be him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>BJ seemed agitated again, arms akimbo and eyes darting back and forth, looking for somewhere to focus. He just kept coming back to Hawkeye, then tearing himself away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was right at the beginning,” BJ said quietly, settling his gaze on the silent street. “It was the very first day.” Hawkeye stared at him for a moment, and finally BJ looked back at him. “You’re the cookie, Hawkeye.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly there were about a hundred different emotions battling it out inside Hawkeye – doubt, excitement, joy, fear – anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beej, I can’t believe you,” he hissed. “You’ve been feeding me these bullshit stories all day, but this is – it’s too far. There’s kidding and there’s cruel, you can’t just – you can’t just come here, show up like this, and say something like that –” Hawkeye was breathless, but he couldn’t stop. “Okay, so you have me all figured out, and you think, what, that we can joke about it? You think that won’t kill me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hawk, what – no! It’s not like that at all, this – it’s real!” The distress in BJ’s voice sounded real enough; it was intense and frantic. Hawkeye felt the pieces of himself that hoped lighting up, dancing around his insides, but the fear and anger still had a stronger hold.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How am I ever supposed to know what’s real, huh? When you lie about everything, turn it all into a joke? Beej, how am I – how am I supposed to know?” Hawkeye felt his chest heaving, knew he was losing control. BJ knew it too; he grasped Hawkeye by the shoulders, instructing him in a calming voice to </span>
  <em>
    <span>breathe, keep breathing</span>
  </em>
  <span>. After a few minutes, Hawkeye’s lungs had recovered, but his pulse was still thundering. BJ’s hands had stayed on his shoulders; now he slid one up to Hawkeye’s neck, casually placing his fingers over the pulse point, feeling him out. Concern was written all over his face, along with traces of something else, something pinched and frayed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hawk, it’s okay, we can talk about it later,” he said, pulling Hawkeye into a hug. He wrapped one arm around him, placed the other gently on the back of his head, cradling him as Hawkeye continued to come down. “It’s okay,” BJ whispered, and Hawkeye steadied himself, leaning into his touch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally, BJ must have felt the rattle of his heartbeat slow down to a normal rate; his arms loosened around Hawkeye, and he leaned back to look him in the eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess I’m the boy who lied wolf, huh?” he asked, clearly not expecting an answer. Hawkeye didn’t have one; he didn’t understand what BJ was talking about, why he was here, why he was holding him. None of it made sense. It was too much like what he wanted.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I mean it. You know that, right?” BJ sounded sincere as he looked at Hawkeye full of something soft and tender. Something like love, Hawkeye thought.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I don’t know that, Beej,” Hawkeye said cautiously. “Your reputation precedes you, you rat, so what am I supposed to think when you say something like that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess – well, you’re supposed to think that I love you,” BJ’s tone was halfway between plain and incredulous, like he couldn’t believe Hawkeye didn’t already know. “Because I do. I love you, Hawkeye.” Hawkeye felt something in him spike again, but BJ headed it off with another reminder to keep breathing. “Based on your reaction, I’d say this is either the worst news you’ve ever gotten, or it falls somewhere in the opposite direction.” Hawkeye stared at him, eyes wide, completely overwhelmed. Trying to absorb it all – BJ, standing on the porch in Crabapple Cove, loving him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, it’s the opposite direction, all right,” he finally said, his voice coming out softer and more fragile than he’d expected. It sounded foreign to his own ears, but it made BJ smile – a wide, joyful grin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How far in that direction, would you say?” he said, teasing a little bit as he led Hawkeye towards his own confession.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The whole damn way, Beej, it’s the best – you fink! You absolute monster! You’ve been torturing me like this all day – and for god knows how long before that – when all you were trying to say is you love me? Why is that so hard to spit out?” Hawkeye ranted as BJ pulled him back in for a hug – nothing cautious in it now, just reveling in his own relief, and Hawkeye’s obvious delight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pulled in close, lips just a breath from BJ’s ear, Hawkeye couldn’t stop himself from saying it. Why should he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Beej, I love you. I love you,” he whispered, and BJ’s grip tightened around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I love you, Hawk,” he replied, repeating it like a litany in Hawkeye’s ear, hands stroking up and down Hawkeye’s back like they couldn’t memorize him fast enough. Like BJ wanted to know every inch of him, and he wouldn’t stop until he did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stood there on the porch, repeating it back and forth like a secret, in a game of telephone where the message somehow never lost its meaning. Finally, Hawkeye grabbed BJ’s hand and led him inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I guess we don’t need the guest room, huh?” Hawkeye suddenly felt shy as he threw a glance over his shoulder at BJ. What he saw made him falter – BJ’s most devious smile, the kind that usually preceded a prank involving shedding clothing. Hawkeye shivered as a thrill ran through him – hoping it meant something along those lines tonight.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll be very disappointed if we do.” BJ’s voice was thick with the implication, and Hawkeye’s mouth went dry.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We aren’t getting a little ahead of ourselves?” Hawkeye asked, silently begging BJ to brush the comment off and follow him upstairs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hmm, maybe we are,” BJ said thoughtfully, looking down to where their hands were still linked. He tugged, and Hawkeye jerked toward him. “Wouldn’t want to skip the middle steps, after all. Those can be very enjoyable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hawkeye wanted to make an off-color joke, something to make BJ laugh, to egg him on – but all he could do was gulp in a breath, as BJ brought his free hand up to Hawkeye’s hair, brushing a few strands of gray out of his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were kissing so fast, Hawkeye didn’t know how it started – just that it was really happening; BJ was exploring him hungrily, untethering him from reality a little more with every passing moment. Hawkeye blindly clutched onto anything he could reach – BJ’s shirt, his arms, his shoulders. He felt more than heard a moan, the vibration bouncing between their bodies. A long moment later, BJ broke away for a breath, resting his forehead against Hawkeye’s. Hawkeye cleared his throat self-consciously.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Uh, well, I think we’re on the right track now.” He was almost bubbling over with nervous energy, his hands fidgeting with the hem of BJ’s shirt, breath coming in huffs. He could feel BJ’s smile growing, feel himself being drawn back in by the gravity of it, until they were kissing again, more softly this time, less frantic.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p><hr/>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Morning light streamed into the bedroom, waking Hawkeye like it did every day. Today, though, he heard a groan and felt the mattress shifting as BJ rolled over, trying to hide his eyes from the light. He ended up buried in a pillow, shoulder hunched up to cast a shadow on his face. Hawkeye couldn’t stop himself from smiling – it was something he’d imagined so many times, dreamt about, never really thought he’d have. BJ, oversleeping in his bed. Hawkeye couldn’t resist; he reached out and poked BJ in the ribs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t,” came the drowsy reply. Hawkeye paused for a moment, just long enough for BJ to relax and let down his guard. Then he struck again. In a split second, BJ had grabbed his wrist, tugged him forward, and wrapped his arms soundly around Hawkeye, trapping him against his chest. He nuzzled into Hawkeye’s neck, his mustache prickling until Hawkeye started squirming. “Just calm down, let’s go back to sleep,” BJ whined, and Hawkeye let himself settle down a little bit. Just this once. “That’s better,” BJ said as he began to nod off again. “Goodnight, cookie.” Hawkeye tapped BJ on the side of the head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wrong on both counts, Mr. Hunnicutt,” he said in his best quiz show voice. “It’s morning, and I’m not a cookie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re a cookie,” BJ insisted sleepily. “You’re my cookie.” Hawkeye stared up at the familiar cracks in the ceiling. He shrugged as well as he could with BJ wrapped solidly around him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, I guess I’ll be a cookie,” he mused, allowing himself to relax and follow BJ back into sleep.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>BACK ON MY BJ GOES TO MAINE BULLSHIT... and honestly, it feels SO good. </p>
<p>Once again a massive thank you to <a href="https://herrlichersonnigertag.tumblr.com/">herrlichersonnigertag</a> for beta reading! </p>
<p>With this fic I'm officially entering the MFWAMSTCU... MASH Fic With Arctic Monkeys Song Titles Cinematic Universe</p></blockquote></div></div>
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